Man, what was that?

I think I'm starting to go crazy. Sometimes it feels like there are voices in my head.

Uh. Right, let's pick off from last time. So basically, Elise and I were accepted as students, though we parted ways as we went to our gender-respective dorms.

To be honest, I was feeling a bit overwhelmed. I didn't even take a shower or brush my teeth when I entered my new room. I just threw my clothes to the side and fell asleep right away, right before the sun began to set.

Seeing the mess I've become makes me miss home somewhat. Mom woulda' scolded me ten times over for all this irresponsibility.

...

I died.

I died.

It really did happen. Even though I said it again, it's so hard to believe.

Honestly, I don't even know what to do.

But I think I'll just brush past these thoughts for now. It's not good. Seriously, I make some really, really stupid decisions sometimes. I can't even cheer myself up.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

So, on a lighter topic, I had a dream.

It was my old room. My memory was a bit hazy. Couldn't make out but a few things.

Sitting on the bookshelf was an anime figurine of a cool swordsman. I bought it at some store in a mall.

I was sweating and looking around at all the stuff they had. It was a pretty small place. The cashier just stared at me while I was busy being indecisive. I didn't really want to buy something, but I felt sort of pressured to, so I ended up getting it.

Looking back, it was a little embarrassing. I wonder if I'd do the same thing if something like that ever happened again.

And there was a trophy for a swim contest hung on a wall. Of course, it was just a participation medal. To be honest, I don't even know if I can freestyle anymore. It's surprising how easily it takes the air out of your lungs.

Going further in, I walked to my desk. There was a bunch of random sketches sprawled about. I don't remember the specifics, but in my dream, I recognized them as sketches (does that make sense?). I don't have an eye for art, though I think it helps me get a better appreciation of things. Or something like that.

The curtains were shut, leaving only the slightest of light creeping through. I drew them back a bit too quick and got blinded by the sun. Still, I reached for the handles and opened the window.

The thing that sucks about staying home is ventilation. I always like to keep my window open a bit, but sometimes the weather is bad. In the summer, the heat and humidity trickles in. And during winter, my fingers and toes get a bit too cold. I just like the outside air.

When my vision came back, I was looking outside.

A peaceful summer afternoon and the sounds of cicadas in the distance. Peering below, the drop seemed impossibly high. The more I stared, the larger the distance grew.

There was no way anyone could survive that kind of fall.

I climbed my way onto the windowsill, standing tall several stories above.

There were seagulls flying about. I could hear them, but I couldn't look up to see them. The sun was in my way.

My head was craned downwards. My arms were spread out. My eyes were closed.

...

And the dream ended there. I placed a hand on my head after falling face-first onto the floor.

Whether I took flight or fell, I guess I'll never know.

It's dark outside. I should head back to bed.